


dessert

by Prim_the_Amazing



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, F/M, Illustrations, M/M, Multi, Pegging, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/M/M, daisy pegging martin: wlw mlm solidarity, daisy the ultimate bro: bro ofc, jon: bro, jon: bro i cant fuck my bf help me out??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: “Jon? What’s going on?”The smile drops from Jon’s face. “Oh, good lord,” he says, wide eyed and shocked. He turns his astonished look on Daisy. “I forgot to tell Martin.”“... You forgot,” she repeats, after a long incredulous moment, the word dripping with exasperation.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 69
Kudos: 566





	dessert

**Author's Note:**

> The illustration was done by [everchased!](https://everchased.tumblr.com/) Check their stuff out!

“I _really_ don’t mind not having sex with you, Jon,” Martin says. There’s a worried furrow between Jon’s brows, and he refuses to unpause the documentary they were watching while cuddling until he’s reassured it away. It’s important that Martin properly conveys this, that this isn’t something that will continue to worry and bother Jon. Martin needs for him to _know_ that it really is okay. “I mean, I’ve been in love with you for years now, and I wasn’t having sex with you for the entire time, and I was fine. I’ll keep being fine.” 

They’re still pressed up against each other, Martin’s arm wrapped around Jon. Jon’s hands are on his arm, and he feels them tighten for a moment, squeezing. His brow is still stubbornly, worriedly furrowed. 

“I don’t want for you to just be _fine,”_ he says. 

A little pang of warmth goes off in his chest at that, but he tries to stay on task. “I’m more than fine. I’m really, really happy with you. You know that, right? Sex is nice and all, but it’s not the whole point of being with someone. It’s more of a side benefit. Dessert. I don’t need dessert, Jon. The, the main course is more than enough for me.” 

His face goes a bit hot as he forces himself to finish the clumsy metaphor. Jon makes a skeptical noise, apparently determined to be miserable or something. Martin sighs and squeezes his arm around Jon once, fondly. 

“You’re more than enough for me. I promise.” 

He presses a kiss into Jon’s hair, and after a long, stiff moment, Jon softens against him, relaxing. He smiles, mouth still hidden into the crown of Jon’s head, victorious and satisfied that the matter has apparently been put to bed. And if it comes up again, well, Martin will just have to reassure him over again. As many times as it takes. 

“Turn it back on, then” Jon says, gesturing towards the telly. 

He doesn’t really notice at the time that Jon doesn’t explicitly agree or surrender to Martin’s argument. 

Martin has some mixed feelings about Daisy Tonner. 

On the one hand: she’s Jon’s best friend. Martin appreciates anyone who appreciates Jon, and the two seem to get along wonderfully. They got to know each other at Jon’s Addicts Anonymous group, Daisy eventually even becoming his sponsor. She’s helped him through some things that Martin just… doesn’t really _get,_ he supposes. He’s always tried his best for Jon, but having someone else who truly understands what he’s going through seems to have really helped. So, Martin is _very_ grateful for Jon and Daisy’s friendship. 

On the other: she’s one of the most quietly intimidating people he’s ever met, and the few hints Jon let slip about their first meeting (back when Daisy was still an officer with a goddamned coke addiction, a _fantastic_ combination) has truly horrified him. He has a _scar_ on his _throat._

But that’s fine. Well, it’s not _fine,_ the throat scar thing, but-- Martin’s very good at being perfectly polite to people that make him slightly nervous, or that he’s not really sure that he likes. If he wants to be polite, anyways. And it’s not as if just because she’s Jon’s closest friend then that means that Martin has to be anything more than a polite acquaintance to her. He hasn’t really gotten the impression that Daisy feels any particular urge to form a more profound bond with him beyond ‘my friend’s boyfriend’ either. She’s curt and carefully inoffensive with him as well. They both care about Jon very much, and that’s about the extent of their relationship with each other, which he’s confident is perfectly fine for both of them. 

He has mixed feelings about Daisy Tonner, but coming home to see her in his flat isn’t exactly a surprise. She visits Jon often. 

Finding her in his _bedroom,_ however, very much is. She looks incongruously out of place, sitting on his bed. 

“Hi,” she says, flat and a little bit awkward. 

“Um,” Martin says, caught entirely off guard. “Hi?” 

He looks helplessly towards Jon, who had excitedly towed him towards their bedroom by his grip around his wrist as soon as he toed off his shoes and shrugged his jacket off. Jon beams at him, in a manic sort of way. It’s a familiar mood that strikes him now and again, when he finds a solution to a problem that he’s been obsessing over to an unhealthy degree for some amount of time. Or at least, when he _thinks_ he’s found a solution, no matter how insane it is. 

“Jon? What’s going on?” 

The smile drops from Jon’s face. “Oh, good lord,” he says, wide eyed and shocked. He turns his astonished look on Daisy. “I forgot to tell Martin.” 

“... You _forgot,”_ she repeats, after a long incredulous moment, the word dripping with exasperation. 

“Forgot to tell me what?” Martin, who isn’t a fan of being talked about like he isn’t right here or being kept out of the loop, asks. 

“Well, I was so caught up with coming up with the idea and then explaining it to _you--”_ Jon explains himself hurriedly to Daisy. Daisy sighs and stands up. “No, wait!” 

“This isn’t exactly something you spring on people, Jon. I’ll leave you two to talk about it.” 

Jon, who had been looking so terribly pleased with himself only moments ago is now looking faintly distressed. The distress grows the closer Daisy gets to the door. “There’s no need for you to _leave,_ Daisy. I’ll just explain it to him and then he’ll agree--” 

“And how do you know he’s going to agree?” she cuts in. 

Jon bristles. “Because it’s a good idea!” 

_“What’s_ a good idea?” Martin asks again, starting to feel confused and very annoyed. 

Daisy reaches the door, but she doesn’t walk out of it. Instead she turns around and leans against it, arms crossed, looking at Jon with an expression that Martin can’t read at all, but that Jon apparently can. She’s got an eyebrow raised, at least. 

Jon nods once, decisively, and then turns around to look at Martin, serious and determined. 

“Martin,” he says, “we’re going to have sex.” 

Martin chokes on his own spit, and Daisy sighs and knocks the back of her head softly against the door. 

“Wh--” He gestures wildly at Daisy, “Is, is this really the time to talk about this again!?” _While your friend is right there, listening?_

“Well, clearly I was supposed to talk about this with you earlier, but I, ah forgot. I’m sorry about that, Martin, I got caught up in the heat of the moment… but that’s besides the point. I know you said that it wasn’t an issue, that you don’t mind not having a sexual relationship, but I-- I want to make you feel good, Martin.” 

His face burns, having this conversation in front of Daisy, of all people. He still doesn’t get why she’s _here_ for this. Moral support? But Jon looks and sounds so _earnest,_ even as he’s flustered. He has to respond. 

“Jon,” he says, and he tries to project as much sincerity as he can into his voice, because he needs for Jon to _get this,_ for it to sink in. “I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I wouldn’t enjoy it. I’d _hate_ it.” 

He wills for Jon to understand what he’s saying, to accept it. 

Jon nods firmly, like what Martin’s saying supports his point perfectly. “Exactly!” he says. “You don’t want for me to cross any boundaries for you. And I agree. I don’t want to cross any of my boundaries either. But I want to help, ah, sate your, your _urges--”_ Martin is _keenly_ aware of Daisy’s gaze on them, “--so I figured out a way to do that that wouldn’t be upsetting for either of us!” 

Martin looks at Jon, mortified and confused and a little bit relieved at the words _I don’t want to cross any of my boundaries either,_ because that hadn’t really been as obvious as Jon seems to think it was. He darts glances over towards Daisy, who is still silently observing them. He’s _really_ bad at reading her. Her face doesn’t move much. 

“... Okay?” he says uncertainly. “And, um, what would that be?” 

Now that he’s got the words out of his mouth, Jon is back to looking manically excited and pleased. Proud of himself. “Daisy will penetrate you,” he explains, “with her strap on, since she isn’t comfortable with being penetrated herself--” 

“I’m a top,” she says dryly. 

“--and I’ll be in the bed with you two, with less clothing than usual or none at all, depending on what feels right in the moment, and I’ll hold your hand and kiss you and it will be just like having sex with me, or at least close enough, I think, since we’ll be romantically intimate with each other while Daisy’s pleasuring you--” 

This is the point that Martin has to put his hands on his knees and just focus on breathing for a bit because _what the fuck?_

“Martin?” Jon asks, voice sharp with concern and alarm. 

“This,” Daisy says. “This is why you should have brought it up earlier with just the two of you.” 

Jon touches him and leads him over to the bed, fussy and suddenly hesitant where he’d been rambling and confident in his _perfect solution_ only moments ago. Martin sits down on the bed heavily (where Daisy had been sitting only a few minutes ago) and tries to accept this bizarre situation strange and wonderful Jon has created. 

He tries to make this make sense as something that’s actually happening, in his head. Jon is prim and appropriate, except for when he’s unhinged and obsessed. Or relaxed, curled up against Martin’s side, content and sleepy. He can… get caught up in his head, sometimes. Lose perspective. And he and Daisy have always been very close friends, ever since they became friends in the first place. It would have even perhaps occurred to Martin to be jealous or worried, if it weren’t for the fact that he trusts Jon utterly, and he’s ace anyways, and he’s pretty sure that Daisy’s a lesbian. Like, almost completely sure. 

He _had_ been almost completely sure. He looks over at Daisy, who looks like she’s on the verge of either leaving or coming closer to say something to him or Jon. 

“You… okay, I guess I can see why Jon would, um, think this is a good idea,” he says. 

“It _is_ a good idea,” Jon says, but with less heated certainty now. “It’s, it’s perfectly logical…” 

Martin is absolutely going to get to that in a minute, but first-- “But why did you agree to it?” 

Daisy has always seemed like the calmer of the two to him. More grounded, more reasonable. At least, ever since she mellowed out from her withdrawal. She had looked _very_ tense back then, when he’d drop Jon off at his meetings and he’d catch a glimpse of her. Like taut wire, ready to snap. 

“I assumed you’d already said yes to it,” she says, along with a pointed look at Jon, who winces slightly. 

“You must have had more reason than that,” he argues. 

She frowns, not like she’s angry, but like she’s thinking. “I thought you were fine with it. And Jon was fine with it too, obviously. I wanted to help him out. He said I was the only one he felt comfortable asking, and he’s my friend. I don’t mind the idea of fucking you.” 

_I don’t mind the idea of fucking you_ is definitely not a string of words he ever pictured coming out of Daisy fucking Tonner’s mouth, which only heightens the surrealness of the situation. But she’d also said that she was the only one Jon had felt comfortable asking. He… can see that. Jon has a few other friends, Melanie and Georgie, for example. But Daisy’s the one he’s _close_ to, the one he holds hands with, the one he can have an entire conversation with with just a few facial expressions. He can see Jon only being comfortable being that vulnerable around Daisy and Martin. He can maybe even see Jon only being comfortable _sharing Martin_ with Daisy. 

“You don’t need to fuck me just because you don’t mind it and Jon asked,” is what he says instead of any of that. 

“I know I don’t need to,” she says plainly. “My friend asked me for a favor, to do something for him that he can’t do on his own, and I’m fine with it.”

Well. She’s an adult, just like the rest of them. Older than them both by a solid decade, really. Martin supposes that he can trust that she’ll take care of herself and not do something that she doesn’t want to. 

“This… this was a strange idea, wasn’t it,” Jon says, brow furrowed. “Asking my friend to have sex with my partner for me. That’s not normal--” 

“Actually,” Martin interrupts, starting to feel bad about putting that insecure, worried tone in his voice and eager to hurriedly get rid of it, “I was just about to say, okay.” 

“... Okay?” 

“Okay,” he repeats. “I mean, it was definitely, um, a surprise. I needed a bit to digest it. But if _you’re_ fine with it and _she’s_ fine with it then… I don’t really see why not? We, we can try it out, at least once.” 

He can’t believe that he’s agreeing to this. He can’t believe that he’s sort of _excited,_ underneath all of the nerves. He’s definitely curious, at least, and Jon seemed pretty gung ho on the idea until it occurred to him that Martin might not be enthusiastically for it. What’s the worst that can happen? Some awkwardness? It’s not like he and Daisy have a close relationship between them for them to ruin, and he’s been with Jon long enough not to panic any longer at the slightest wobble in their dynamic. 

He’s actually doing this, he realizes. He’s going to have some sort of strange threesome with Daisy and Jon. Well, alright then. Okay. Definitely _not_ how he’d been expecting for the day to go when he’d woken up this morning. 

Jon looks at him intently, as if trying to extract the truth from him with just the pull of his gaze. “Really? Are you certain, Martin? I, I know I didn’t exactly handle this in the best way. You don’t need to agree or rush into anything you--” 

Daisy huffs. “Consent and communication is great and all, but how many times are we going to go over this? He’s an adult, he said he’s into it. Let’s trust that he’s not lying for some stupid reason.” 

“It, it really does seem like it might be… fun?” he asks, voice rising a bit at the last syllable, feeling his face go hot again at the admission that he may in fact be interested in this scenario. It’s _embarrassing,_ admitting to wanting things. Especially things like this. 

“I’ll show you fun,” Daisy says, sounding oddly threatening for what she’s promising him. And then she takes her shirt off in one fluid movement, and Martin yelps. Sure, he’s just agreed to have sex with her, but he hadn’t been _prepared._

Daisy’s pale and leanly muscled, scarred. She doesn’t look as gaunt as when Martin had first met her. Jon told him that she’s been well enough to start going to the training center again for a few months now. She unbuckles her belt and shucks her trousers off, leaving her black bra and underwear on. She moves with smooth, practical motions, unashamed to strip down to her underthings in front of someone she’s not even particularly close to. 

He looks over to Jon, who’s got his sweater off but his trousers and shirt still on. He catches Martin’s gaze and smiles at him, small and crooked and fond, and undoes his hair tie. Martin melts a little like he always does when Jon’s lets his hair down, long and loose. He reaches out and touches it, carding his hand through the long dark locks, threaded through with gray. Jon nuzzles up into his hand, and Martin’s heart sort of palpitates for a moment. He rubs his thumb along his temple affectionately, and Jon’s eyes flutter closed as he hums, low and pleased. He puts his hand over Martin’s. 

There’s a clinking sound in Daisy’s direction, and he looks away to see-- _oh._ She’s putting on the harness, over her black underwear. For the, for the strap on. It’s… not small. The dildo looks like a simplified, regular penis, except it’s hot pink and, well, the _size._

“Not too big for you?” she asks, catching him looking. 

“Um,” he says, his voice cracking on that one syllable, and _great,_ how sexy and composed of him. He swallows roughly, clearing his throat. “N--no it’s, it’s fine. It’s an okay size.” 

He is not up to the task of admitting that he knows this because he’s had toys around that size before. Just… never attached to someone’s thrusting hips before. Holy shit, this is going to be intense, isn’t it. 

Jon’s hand lands lightly on Martin’s belt buckle, which mortifyingly makes his dick twitch _immediately._

“Do you want some, ah, some help getting undressed?” he asks, his dark skin going just a little darker on his cheeks. 

Wisely, instead of using his words, Martin just nods. Jon neatly unbuckles Martin’s belt and slides it out of its belt loops before putting it aside on the night table. He starts pulling his zipper down, and Martin has to look away from that out of self preservation. He pulls his jumper and shirt off over his head and tosses it onto the floor, fumbling his glasses back onto his face, unsure. He’s never sure what he’s supposed to do with them during sex. Keep them on? Take them off? 

His eyesight isn’t that bad, he decides. He folds the arms and places them carefully next to his belt. 

“Martin?” Jon says. “Could you lift your hips for a moment?” 

He looks over towards him to see that Jon’s kneeling next to his knees now, with his hands ready to slide Martin’s trousers down his legs. 

Oh, Christ. Yeah, he’s getting hard. 

He lifts his hips from the bed by a few inches, bracing himself on his arms. Jon pulls his trousers down to his ankles efficiently but not roughly, and Martin realizes that he’s taken his pants along with them all at once. He feels himself go bright red, and what’s worse is that now Jon and Daisy can see that the flush goes all the way to his chest. And his half hard cock. They can see that too. He bites a high pitched sort of noise from the back of his throat. 

Jon looks at his cock, his face terribly close to it, and he _smiles_ and looks up at Martin warmly. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far,” he says. “That, that _is_ what it means, yes? I mean, I know it happens sometimes for no good reason at all, but--” 

“Yes,” he says, and has to put a hand over his own eyes for a moment. “Yes, I’m enjoying myself, Jon.” 

This man is literally going to give him some sort of heart attack. 

“Good,” says Daisy. “Do you want to work yourself open, or should I?” 

He takes his hand away from his eyes to see Daisy flicking open the cap on a bottle of lube. 

“Ah,” he says. “Um.” 

She turns her eyes onto Jon. “Looks like you get to decide.” 

Martin’s fine with that. 

“You do it,” Jon says after a moment of consideration. “I think that’s going to feel better for him?” 

“Mmm,” she says, and upends the bottle over her hand, letting the thick clear liquid dribble slowly over her calloused fingers. 

If there’s such a thing as _too close friends,_ Jon and Daisy have happily sailed past that line without pausing or noticing a long time ago, apparently, because it’s really starting to sink in that Jon just told Daisy to finger his boyfriend, and Daisy just nodded and started lubing up without hesitation. 

“Come on, Martin,” Jon says, and tugs at him. Martin moves so that he’s lying on the bed more than sitting on its edge, his head on the pillow. Jon settles down next to him, close and warm against his side, and Daisy closes the lube bottle and tosses it onto an out of the way patch of the bed. She gets onto the bed, the mattress creaking, and moves until she’s in between Martin’s legs. The large, protruding, hot pink dildo strapped onto her crotch is impossible not to notice. 

This is really fucking happening. Martin takes a deep breath. Okay. Okay, yeah. He’d agreed to this. Yup. This is definitely strange as hell, but also he’s steadily getting harder and the idea of calling things off right now just feels frustrating more than anything else. That dildo _will_ be going into him. It might be sort of intimidating, but he _wants_ it. 

Jon’s fingers tangle around his and squeeze once reassuringly. That’s handy, because it feels good to have something to grip tightly onto as Daisy reaches down between his legs and up into him, pushing one slick finger slowly into him. He inhales sharply. Daisy’s hands are a little bit cold, the lube not warm enough yet to be comfortable. At least her hand is slow, steady, the nails short. Her expression is intent, focused, eyes flickering between his face and the place where-- _Christ_ \--they’re joined. He tries to relax and unclench, to breathe slowly and deeply. 

“Good?” Jon asks. Less than a minute after the first finger. Martin laughs a little unsteadily. Yeah, it’s clear that Jon hasn’t been worked open before himself. 

“Not bad,” he says. Daisy works her finger a little deeper inside of him, rubbing and curling gently, her hand slick and careful. The lube is starting to warm up. 

Jon makes a worried little noise and kisses him. Martin leans up into it as Jon’s hair falls around them like a dark curtain. The kissing is a good distraction, as Daisy works a second finger up into him, as the slight breach turns into more of a stretch. He loses himself to those two sensations for a while, until the she’s up to three fingers and he has to break from the kiss to just pant for a while, his breathing loud and heavy. His hips are twitching down onto her fingers in small, thoughtless jerks. Her fingers aren’t especially thick. He wants _more._

“Ready?” she asks. 

_“Yes,”_ he says, voice already going a bit ragged at the edges. Jon makes an interested noise and smooths Martin’s hair away from his forehead, looking down at him with wide, dark, curious eyes. Fuck, yeah, Martin is _fully_ hard now. 

Daisy roots around for the lube bottle for a bit, finds it, and promptly upends a generous wallop onto her strap. She strokes it for a bit, spreading the lube along its length. Fuck, seeing her hand on it-- the comparison just really drives in how _large_ it is. She wipes away the remaining lube off on her own thigh. Lines the strap up with Martin’s hole. 

Jon tucks some hair behind Martin’s ear, his thumb caressing his cheek bone. “Ready?” he asks, the question repeated. 

His mouth is so dry with need that all he can do is nod. 

Daisy drives her hips slowly against Martin’s, bringing the strap slowly deeper into him inch by inch. A helpless groan leaves in, and she stops for a moment. 

_“Good_ noise,” he says, feeling a little bit crazed with the slow drag of the strap going into him. “Don’t, don’t stop.” 

“I know,” she says. “Just--” And then she grabs one of his thigh and hoists it up with casual strength. She lets her hips start to move again, slow and steady and controlled as a machine, and he has to throw his head back into the pillow and squeeze his eyes shut, cursing. “There. Better angle.” 

“It’s not too fast?” Jon asks. 

_“No,”_ he says empathetically. He’s not sure he wouldn’t be _much_ louder if she were going any faster, but he definitely doesn’t want for her to slow down. He feels like he’s losing his mind to the steadily increasing pressure. 

Jon hums thoughtfully, and ducks down to press a kiss against Martin’s face. “You like it, then?” 

“Yes,” he says, a little brokenly. “Yes, yes, yes of course I do.” 

Daisy finally, finally bottoms out. He breathes harshly, desperately. She’s calm and controlled, of course. It’s just a strap. And Jon’s still _fully clothed._ He’s the one being taken to pieces here, spread out on his back and filled. He doesn’t know what it says about him that that makes his cock leak with precome, so achingly hard without being touched once. He clenches down on the thick, sturdy length of the strap and shivers. God, yeah, this is definitely the biggest thing he’s had in him in a _long_ time. 

Daisy draws her hips back slightly, and then snaps them back in again, not too hard. 

_“Fuck,”_ he hisses. Jon strokes his hand down Martin’s chest soothingly, and then he shuffles away for a moment. Martin makes a bereft noise against his will--he wants Jon _here,_ with him-- but he just makes a comforting noise and then quickly shucks his shirt and trousers off, leaving only his pants. He comes back in and then tugs at Martin’s shoulders until he very gingerly leans up a little. It makes the strap shoved deep inside of him move, and he muffles a whimper. 

Jon makes himself comfortable behind Martin, so that Martin’s head is pillowed on Jon’s stomach, his shoulders resting on Jon’s legs. Jon curls his arms around Martin’s neck and leans down to kiss his shoulder, his neck, the side of his face. Strokes his fingers through his hair, rakes his nails lightly down his chest in a way that makes a moan slip out of him. 

“Perfect,” Jon says, content and satisfied. 

“Now that he’s settled to your satisfaction,” Daisy says dryly, _“may_ I fuck him?” 

“You may,” Jon says primly, and it makes something inside of Martin go hot and urgent. Jon just gave Daisy permission to _fuck_ him, like that’s something that he gets to decide and oh why does Martin fucking _love that--_

That’s when Daisy fucking _rails_ him. She braces herself with a hand to the bed, the other one holding Martin’s hip up for him, his knee bent, and she _fucks_ him. She puts her _back_ into it. The breath gets punched out of him as she snaps her hips in and out of him, a strong and steady rhythm, hard and fast and merciless and the noises are spilling out of him now with no ability left to hold them back. 

“Fuck!” he squeaks breathlessly. “Oh my god, _oh,_ Jon, Jon!” 

She snarls and bares her teeth, and it looks like a fierce and self satisfied smile as she fucks loud, humiliating noises out of him. Jon touches him softly in contrast, his hands gentle and stroking and petting, his kisses fond. 

“You’re doing perfectly, Martin,” he says warmly, and Martin has to swear and squeeze his eyes shut because Daisy’s abs are ridiculous and standing out so sharply as she thrusts into him flawlessly and without pause or faltering, and Jon has his hair down and he’s smiling at him with so much tenderness as he gets fucked within an inch of his life. God, how is he supposed to survive this? 

Jon reaches down and tangles their fingers together, his other hand stroking his face, his chest, soothing. Martin holds tightly on, because that’s all he can do. He feels _overheated._

Daisy pounds into him relentlessly and he can’t stop being _loud_ about it, and the grip she has on his thigh is so hard that it’s definitely going to bruise into the imprint of a hand. Martin’s free hand clutches desperately at the sheets, until he can’t take it any more. He grabs onto his leaking cock and squeezes, swearing loudly. He pumps and strokes himself, and Daisy doesn’t slow down or gentle even slightly. 

“Do you want to come, Martin?” Jon asks him, low and close to his ear. It nearly kills him. Or at least, it feels like it does. 

“Ffffuck, yes, I do, I do,” he gasps. He rubs needily at his dick, and Daisy thrusts into him, filling him up, and he’s _desperate_ and he _needs_ to come. 

“Daisy, help him out?” 

Daisy laughs, a rare, rough sound. “I thought I already was?” she asks, grinning at Jon. It’s very, very difficult to remember any mixed feelings about her when they’re so fond with each other, and when she’s making Martin feel so _good._

“Yes, but _more,”_ Jon says. “You know, to get him over the edge.” 

“I thought we’d make an afternoon of this, but alright. Maybe some other time.” With that, she grabs his other thigh with her other hand, and then hoists them both up over her shoulders. He’s nearly folded in fucking half and she’s so fucking _strong_ as she _snaps_ her hips up into him, and the new angle makes spots bloom in front of his eyes and he’s _shouting_ and Jon squeezes his arms around him, kissing his ear, murmuring fond, soft things just for him and, and--

Daisy finally stops moving long enough for him to breathe. He comes back to himself slowly, dizzily. The strap is still nestled deep inside of him, and for now he’s content with that. He’s no longer folded in half, at least. He feels like he just got taken to pieces, those pieces were carefully and thoroughly cleaned, and then put back together again. His mind is clear and more than a little bit stunned and sluggish. He feels _amazing._

“Good?” Jon asks him. 

“Yes,” he says faintly. “It was-- it was good, Jon.” 

“Good,” Daisy sighs. “Because my abs are going to be aching for days from this. Good workout, though.” 

Martin blinks, feeling slow and a little bit floaty. “Did-- did you agree to this as a _training exercise?”_

“Partially,” she admits easily. “Gotta get back in shape and all.” 

He gives her an incredulous, slightly affronted look. She gives a shallow thrust up into him and he swears sharply, oversensitive and aching. She gives him a wolfish, mischievous flash of a smile, and then slowly starts pulling out of him. He holds very, very still for it. Oh fuck, he’s going to be _properly_ sore tomorrow. Looking at it again, he can barely believe that that thing was just inside of him. 

Jon makes a intrigued noise, and then his hand slides down Martin’s chest, to his stomach where his own come is cooling. He swipes a finger through it and he-- no, he can’t be-- 

Martin watches on with wide, wide eyes as Jon pops the finger into his mouth with a curious look on his face. Something warm rolls over in the pit of his belly, even though he was _just_ fucked to within an inch of his life. He wrinkles his nose adorably at the taste. Daisy laughs again, low and rough and warmly amused. 

“What, did you think it was going to taste good?” she asks. 

“I suppose-- well, it’s not _bad,_ just-- strange? I can’t quite decide. I’ve never had the opportunity to try it before, tasting my own just seemed like a bit much.” 

“I love you,” Martin tells his _ridiculous_ boyfriend. Jon goes stiffly flustered. 

“O--oh, well, of course-- I mean, I love you too, Martin.” 

“You’re welcome,” Daisy says matter of factly. Jon laughs. Martin loves his laugh. He decides that anyone who can make him make that sound, well-- Martin likes them quite a lot. 

Not that the mind shattering orgasm hadn’t contributed, of course. The main course is the whole point, but dessert tastes _good._


End file.
